


You're Gonna Be Great

by stevierosebudds (vulcantastic)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sibling Bonding, not in a weird way get your heads out of the gutter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcantastic/pseuds/stevierosebudds
Summary: Alexis is emotional. Patrick is insightful. David doesn’t usually say “I love you” first, but maybe that will change. (Set directly after 6x14.)
Relationships: Alexis Rose & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 47
Kudos: 268





	You're Gonna Be Great

**Author's Note:**

> Wowie. No fic writing in two years and now two fics in the span of three days. Shoutout to SC for sparking my creativity.
> 
> I wanted to give Alexis and David a goodbye. To my knowledge we don't know when she's leaving, but I'd imagine pretty soon after Johnny and Moira. 
> 
> I also noticed Alexis told David she loved him a couple of times in "Happy Ending," and I thought she deserved to hear it from David--however uncomfortable it makes him.
> 
> Please enjoy. I'm looking forward to reading everyone else's companion pieces to the finale!

Still in their wedding attire, David, Patrick, Alexis, and Stevie stroll into Cafe Tropical. It’s near empty—everyone likely still sleeping off their inevitable post-reception hangovers. Twyla, though, who spots them from behind the counter, is positively _glowing_ for 7 in the morning and holds up a finger to note she’ll be right with them.

David, meanwhile, tries not to think about the fact that this is the most disheveled he’s ever looked in public (and hopefully ever will again).

Alexis is walking ahead of him, and he can see her arms crossed as if to protect herself. He doesn’t have to look at her face to know she’s still crying. 

He squeezes Patrick’s hand. Patrick squeezes back.

By the time they’ve all sat down in a booth, Alexis has dried her eyes and is grinning almost madly.

“Okay so, like, I feel like a post-wedding breakfast means I can treat myself,” she explains as Twyla comes over with four giant menus.

“Twy? I’ll get the Eggs Benedict. Except with no English muffin. And no hollandaise sauce. And egg whites instead of eggs over easy. And a side salad instead of home fries …”

David doesn’t bother trying to stop his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Stevie nods and says, “Um, I’m gonna do the _actual_ Eggs Benedict. Also is anyone else still seeing double? No? Okay….”

David glances at Patrick, who has evidently decided to take a power nap on his shoulder, and grins. He looks back at Twyla, hoping his expression doesn’t betray the sickly-stupid warmth he’s feeling for his new husband. “I’m gonna do waffles, and he’ll have the breakfast sandwich. Thanks.”

“You got it. I’m gonna assume you want a round of coffees here, too,” Twyla says, grinning.

Alexis reaches cross the table and boops Patrick’s nose. He doesn’t budge. “Totally.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be right back!”

David throws Alexis a glare. “Hi, don’t touch my husband while he’s sleeping, thanks.”

Stevie snorts, but Alexis…

_Oh, God. Here we go._

Fat tears brim at the corners of her eyes, a few of them escaping down her face. “Oh, my god, _husband_. My brother is mar _ried_!”

She brings the last syllable up about an octave (if that’s even possible), and to David, it sort of sounds like a bird call, so it’s no wonder Patrick jolts awake at the sound.

“Mmph.” He sits up fully, rubbing his eyes. “W’happened? Did we get food?”

“Yes, honey.” David pats Patrick’s thigh affectionately. “We’re getting food.”

“It’s just—” Alexis begins again, voice shaking, and David interjects, “Oh, so we’re still doing this. Mkay.”

And then Alexis starts sort of waving her hands in front of her in what looks like an attempt to keep herself together. “It’s just like, this is so great. And Stevie, _you’re_ so great.” She turns to Stevie, clasping their hands together above the table. “You’re _so_ good for David.”

“Oh…thanks,” she replies, very clearly uncomfortable, hands slack in Alexis’ grip. She meets eyes with David, a silent acknowledgement of their shared vague confusion and overt embarrassment.

“And Mom and Dad are gonna be so… _great_ in L.A. and you guys are just gonna be so, so, so _great right here_!” She screeches so loud that Twyla, who is approaching with a tray of coffee cups, jumps and almost drops it.

David looks pleadingly at Patrick, who replies awkwardly, but encouragingly, “And …you’ll take New York by storm, Alexis.” Bless him. “And you know, even though you leave tomorrow—”

David clears his throat, hoping this is enough to stop Patrick from continuing to open his delectable mouth and make words come out of it. Twyla swoops in, placing the coffees in front of each of them, staring incredulously at Alexis. She puts a hand on her shoulder, patting it rhythmically, looking just as lost as the rest of them at the table.

“Twy! You’re so _great_. Yay, coffee!” Alexis is full-on sobbing now, and David brings a hand up to cover his eyes.

This is going to be a long breakfast.

* * *

Later, David and Patrick are lounging in bed. After some further planning for their honeymoon and a few rounds of an altogether different kind of honeymooning, David lets contentedness drape over him like a blanket for a while.

The afternoon sun creeps through Patrick’s bedroom window, and David, under the covers and resting his head on Patrick’s chest, synchronizes the rise and fall of his husband’s breaths with his own.

Patrick’s voice breaks the peaceful silence, vibrating against David’s ear. “So how about Alexis this morning?” David winces. “I’m not gonna lie, I was a little bit afraid to leave her alone at the motel.”

“Ugh.” David sits up, wrapping his arms around himself. “Let’s not talk about it.”

He hears the rustle of the sheets as Patrick lifts himself up on his elbows. Though he’s not looking at him, he can just _feel_ that Patrick is giving him a wary look. “Okay,” Patrick says, and it’s so annoying how calm he is.

Patrick then picks up a book from his bedside table. David pretends to scroll through his phone.

But he can only allow a few minutes of silence before he simply _has_ to break it.

“… It’s just really weird.”

“Okay,” Patrick says again, not unkindly, putting down the book. “So you _do_ want to talk about this.”

David shrugs. “I’ve just _never_ seen her like this, Patrick. She’s so…so, um…” He gesticulates aimlessly. “What’s the word for feeling things again?”

Patrick blinks at him. “Emotional?”

“Yeah! It’s kind of disturbing,” David replies, choosing to ignore Patrick’s snort of laughter. “Alexis gets emotional over, like, celebrities she talked to at a party once not texting her back. Or receiving a top she ordered in the wrong color.”

Patrick scoots over to close the little space between them, and David loops an arm around his shoulders and kisses the top of his head. “Yeah, sure, but she just broke up with someone, and she’s going to New York tomorrow. Alone. That would be a lot to handle for anyone.”

“Oh, please,” David scoffs, “She knows so many people.”

“So? She’s leaving behind a life she actually grew to like. With her family. It’s hard.”

David buries his nose into Patrick’s hair with a muffled, “Why do you have to be so empathetic?”

“I think,” Patrick says, pulling away slightly to rest a hand on David’s thigh, “You love your sister and you’re sad to see her leave. It’s okay to feel that way.”

A small lump forms in David’s throat. He swallows, and says, evenly, “I guess.”

Patrick looks up at him, and David forces himself to meet his gaze. Of course he’s all shiny eyes and feelings as he says, “I think you should tell her that.”

“Ugh, gross.” David rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to _tell her_.”

“I think she might want to hear it.” Patrick traces his fingers along the side of David’s arm. “I know I would.”

“That’s because you have a soul,” David replies with a wave of his hand, “The Roses don’t have those; it’s not in our wiring.”

Patrick presses a kiss to David’s cheek. “I’m gonna have to disagree with that.”

“Mhm. You might regret saying that about a week into our marriage.”

He pouts as Patrick starts to gradually pull away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rifling around for a pair of jeans. “Why don’t you go hang out with her for a bit? I have to stop by the store anyway since we’re expecting a delivery.”

David shrugs. It’s not the worst idea. Plus, God knows she’s not done packing and she _always_ needs help with that.

So he finds himself putting on a cute outfit about a half-hour later, kissing Patrick goodbye, and heading to his luxurious former home.

* * *

The motel room door is wide open, which definitely wouldn’t fly anywhere else but in this town in terms of basic safety precautions. 

David crosses his arms, watching Alexis fiddle with some sweaters in an extra-large suitcase on the bed. “You should know by now that’s not how you fold cashmere,” he says.

“Ugh, David!” Alexis whirls around, flapping her arms. “You scared me.”

David walks over to her suitcase, taking out a clump of sweaters. “Unless you _want_ these to be all stretchy when you get to New York, I’m gonna redo…whatever this is.”

“Fine. But I pick the order they go in. It’s a _system_.”

And just like that, they move into comfortable silence for a while—David folding, Alexis organizing. As he works, he occasionally looks around. He can hardly believe he lived here for three years. With the person meticulously fitting her royal blue sweaters in the suitcase next to him.

And that’s all over now.

_We’re not going there._

“So,” David says, not looking at her, “What have you been up to? Clearly the hangover hasn’t killed you yet."

“ _David_. You know I don’t get hangovers. It’s all the vitamin supplements I take. I'm _very_ hydrated.” David nods mock-seriously as she continues. “Well, Twy and I hung out a little bit, but she had to go because she and her mom had a date to see the reboot of _Cruel Intentions_ in Elmdale.” Alexis exhales a shaky breath, tossing her hair. “So like, it’s just me now! But that’s cool. I have like, _so_ much to do before tomorrow.”

David nods. He begins to frantically wrack his brain for something else to say, but before he can pin down a topic, Alexis says,“So, like, this is it.”

“Um.” David steps back from the suitcase, having finished folding. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Alexis giggles nervously. David’s discomfort is apparently quite obvious in his expression because she huffs, crossing her arms. “Okay, I know I’m being ridiculous today, David. You don’t need to like, rub it in my face.”

“I didn’t say anything?” David points out, and Alexis stomps her foot, taking him back to when they were kids.

“Shut up, David! It’s gonna be weird and you know it. I mean, look at us.” She gestures around her. “The last time we spent this much time together was when we had that joint nursery as babies. And I don’t even _remember_ that, so it doesn’t count.”

David takes a deep breath. “I know,”he replies. He thinks of Patrick, who would be telling him to “validate her feelings” or whatever. He hopes he’s succeeding in taking his husband’s advice. “But…you’ll visit all the time. Patrick and I will visit all the time—”

“Only if you want to,” Alexis interjects, and David raises an eyebrow. “I’m not an idiot. I know New York hasn’t always treated you super well.”

David lowers his eyes and makes his hands into tight fists, feeling the inevitable salty wetness welling up within him.

“I don’t like, want you to be there all the time if it’s, you know, triggering for you.”

It nearly floored him—the selflessness of the statement. The recognition of his experience. Of course she’d always known. She’s his sister. A sister who’s remarkably observant. Why did he ever assume anything else?

He can’t help it. He feels like he’ll burst into a million tiny pieces on the ancient carpet if he doesn’t say it.

“Hey, um.” David plays with the rings on his fingers. Looks up at the dirty ceiling, then meets eyes with his sister. It takes everything in him to utter the sentence. “I love you.”

No sooner have the words left his mouth is Alexis throwing her arms around him. He returns the embrace, tears silently streaming down his face. Alexis is a lot less quiet with her heaving cries and occasional hiccups. It’s a prime time to make fun of her, but David lets her be. He supposes he can make an exception for the person who walked him down the aisle just a day before.

And yet, soon enough, because Alexis can’t stop talking for more than a few minutes: “Ew, David, did you snot on me?”

Offended, David shoves her away and looks down at his own black sweatshirt sprinkled with pink polka-dots. “Um, absolutely not. _You_ snotted on _me._ Look. This is hand-wash only—”

“You’re such a liar! I’ve seen you use the dinky washing machines here to clean it!”

“That was a _very desperate_ moment and I watched every _second_ of that cycle—”

He cuts himself off. She’s puffy-faced and red but she’s smiling, eyes twinkling with amusement. And David can’t help but smile back. He shakes his head, making his way to the doorway before emotion can overtake him again. “Text me if you need more packing help. Maybe I’ll answer.” He turns to face her once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“‘Kay,” she says with a dainty wave, wiping her eyes with the other hand.

"'Kay," he echoes.

And he shuts the door to the room they once shared for the last time.

* * *

He comes home to Patrick, who’s making dinner. David stands in the doorway of the kitchen, and Patrick turns toward him, spatula in hand, with a welcoming grin. “Hi!”

And then David breaks, face crumpling as he takes in a sharp breath.

“Oh, David,” Patrick whispers, dropping the spatula on the counter and running to hold him. David half-collapses in his husband’s arms, pressing his face to Patrick’s neck.

“I think it all just sort of hit me now?” His admission comes out like a question. “Like, my insane parents aren’t here being insane anymore. And Alexis is…” He trails off, dipping to rest his forehead on Patrick’s shoulder as Patrick rubs small circles on his back. “I’m gonna miss her,” he sobs, eyes burning. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Patrick replies, pressing tiny kisses into his hair. “Nothing at all.”

* * *

He can’t believe he’s here again. Ready to watch another car drive away.

Granted, the Uber took about 25 minutes longer than the app had indicated to get to the motel because most Uber drivers don’t even know Schitt’s Creek exists. So they all had more time waiting outside to chat. To reminisce. To, however reticent David was to admit it, ache just a little bit.

“So you’re staying with _who_ again until your lease starts next week?” Stevie asks. David knows she knows the answer, and he looks down at his shoes to keep from grinning.

Alexis tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Oh, Lupita Nyong’o. Well, technically it’s Lupita’s cousin’s friend in Brooklyn. But basically Lupita. We’re pretty tight.”

Stevie replies, “Right. Of course. How could I forget?” She raises her eyebrows at David in amusement.

A banged-up 2005 Camry pulls up in front of them, and a man with at least 3 missing teeth rolls down his window and says, “For Alexis?”

“That’s me!” Alexis says, voice shaking.

David hates that he can feel his stomach drop. He stares down at the ground, observing the details of his high-top sneakers, as the sounds of embraces and teary goodbyes surround him. Stevie is definitely sniffling through a rough, “See you soon.” Patrick is holding it together like always, even as Alexis chokes out, “You _take care_ of my brother. And make sure he doesn’t go without food after 10am. He’s a total _bitch_ when he’s hungry…”

Finally she reaches him. “David,” she says simply. He looks up. Nods, pressing his lips together, afraid of the strangled sounds that might come out of him if he doesn’t.

Alexis wraps her arms so tight around him he can barely feel his upper body. But he holds her. He isn’t sure for how long. Through thick tears, he can see Patrick and Stevie helping load her seemingly endless stream of bags of into the trunk of the car.

She pulls away to take his hands. “I’m _so_ proud of you, David,” she says. He can feel the tremble in her fingers. He takes a few breaths until he can trust himself to speak without losing it.

“And you,” he finally replies, holding her hands tight, “are gonna be _great_.”

She grins. “I know.” She kisses his cheek, and before either of them can say anything more she’s flouncing off to the car.

After opening the door to the back seat, she turns to face them once more, eyes bright. She throws up a peace sign and shouts, “Don’t miss me too much,” before hopping in.

The Toyota speeds off, leaving upturned dust in its wake. Stevie holds David’s hand. Patrick wraps an arm around his shoulders. This time, David isn’t afraid to let out a one-syllable sob. 

Once the car is out of sight, Patrick presses a kiss to David’s temple. “I’m gonna go get the car. Stevie, we’re eating our feelings tonight, and you’re invited. What’s your preferred pizza topping?”

Stevie follows Patrick across the parking lot, and David can hear her saying, “Um. You should know that it’s mushrooms by now. I don’t know if we can be friends anymore?”

Their voices trail away as David peers up at the Rosebud Motel sign, reveling in the quiet. Just then, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

**Alexis [Received 1:12pm]**  
I wasn’t going to tell you …….. but you look a little blotchy right now, David.

Through his tears, David bursts into laughter, shaking his head.

**Sent [1:13pm]**  
go blotch yourself.

**Alexis [Received 1:13pm]**  
Love you!

He takes a moment, closes his eyes. The sun is warm, comforting on his skin. A lot is ending. But so much has just begun. And no matter where in the world they were, his family would be part of it.

Eyes wet and heart full, David jogs after his husband and best friend.

“Excuse me, did I hear mushrooms? Mushrooms are a hard no…”


End file.
